


Sciret Secretum Sanguinem Beatus

by bobafutch



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 01:34:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13113132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobafutch/pseuds/bobafutch
Summary: She had come from the East, from the Cathedral Ward.





	Sciret Secretum Sanguinem Beatus

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't looked at latin w.out google translate in years. I appreciate any and all comments!

She had come from the East, from the Cathedral Ward. She told Iosefka her name was Beata, and that she was an elementary doctor who had come to study her work in the name of the Church. Beata had appeared from the back entrance, and Iosefka knew she could not refuse her entry when she already knew the back way into the clinic and seemed ready to stay. She smelled like a hunter. Beata wore weapons at her belt.

Iosefka didn’t like to look at knives outside the operating theater.

* * *

 

She was sweet-tongued and forthcoming. She had pages of her own research, strange, strange research into the physical workings of the human mind and how one could _bring its workings towards those of the Gods._ Iosefka had gasped, asking her what this had to do with the plague of Beasts, and Beata had laughed and kissed her nose.

Beata was kind and quick to snicker and giggle and between the endless hours of tending patients (she helped Iosefka, and was so generous with her time, offering to take part of Iosefka’s workload on and nurse patients on her own, without Iosefka needing to be there), they drank tea and compared notes, and after a moment of modesty, she came to sleep in Iosefka’s bed with her, for it was far more pleasant than sleeping alone in a ward bed. It was warmer, too.

* * *

 

“I know you have a secret,” Beata whispered against Iosefka’s cheek, her warm breast resting against Iosefka’s. Iosefka sighed. “What could it possibly be?” Beata laughed. “I don’t know darling, but I surely know that you have one, you must. You walk around like a woman with a secret.”  
Iosefka’s heart nearly grew still when she remembered the hunter, _her_ hunter, her wind-scented hunter from another land who she’d finally see when morning broke, when the hunt was over and she could open her doors again. Instead, she gently tugged Beata’s hair to smell its clean scent of apple vinegar and warm skin and whispered back “You’d know.”

* * *

 

The tea Beata brewed was strange and strong. It tasted a little oddly but Iosefka couldn’t refuse a church doctor or question her medicine. So she drank it, and little by little, she came to feel odder and odder. She looked in her tarnished little sliver of a glass as she washed her face and Iosefka saw her skin had become so pale it was blueish. She also saw Beata, sneaking up behind her. Iosefka smiled at the reflection sliding its hands around her throat in the mirror.

 

 

* * *

 

 

What a queer feeling. Shrinking was such an odd feeling. Beata had tied her down no, no, she was Iosefka now, white haired and she grew ever taller, Iosefka, Iosefka, Iosefka, Iosefka. The emissary had no name, but it held dear to it a little vial of blood, a sweet little vial of singing blood.

 

                                                                                                      _You’d_ Know.

  



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